Two Very Small Storms
by Tighearnan
Summary: Series of bonus feature one-shots for Never A Happily Ever After. Mostly futurefic, always fluffy.
1. Two Very Small Storms

A/N: Henri= Ahn-ri

* * *

Work Text:

"Papaaaaaaaa."

Ansell groaned, rolling over.

Belle chuckled sleepily from the other side of their bed. "They're coming." She said into her pillow, listening to the slapping of little feet coming down the hall from the brightly painted nursery. The sound a distinct addition to the pattering of spring rain on the windows. "There's no escape."

"Another hour would have been nice." Her husband sighed, grabbing his linen breeches and tugging them on before sitting up and pulling back his hair. Through the dim stormy light trickling in through the drapes of their modest house, he smiled down at Belle.

"What?" She yawned, still curled in her spot and enjoying all of the quilts keeping away the chilly morning air.

Reaching down, he gently pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. Able to still get lost in her eyes after all their years together. "Just enjoying the calm before the storm. Two very small storms to be more precise, one of them rather loud and dramatic."

"I wonder who he gets that from." She sleepily kissed his fingers.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He ignored the raised eyebrow. "Do you need to sleep in a bit, Darling? It is Sunday after all. No school, the sh-" He suggested, unable to continue as the door opened with a click of the latch and the children wandered in.

"Paaaaapaaaaa." The youngest of their clan, all of twelve months, called out rather dramatically. Throwing his arms outward towards his father, he toddled with haste into the room in just his diaper.

"Bernard, why do you always take off your gown?" Ansell chuckled, reaching over the side of the bed and scooping up his fat bellied boy. "Hm? Aren't you cold you silly boy?" Kissing the crop of fluffy brown hair, he couldn't help but smile as Bernard settled into his lap and played with his hair and beard. Jabbering all the while, telling his papa all sorts of things, though his papa couldn't understand most of it. "Good morning to you too, Mon Petit. Busy day in store for us I see."

"Maman?"

Belle lifted her head up and smiled warmly to the soon to be four-year-old crawling on his knees over to her. "Good morning, Henri." Reaching out, she helped him lay down next to her, getting a kiss on her cheek for the effort.

"Maman, are you tired?" Henri Alexander asked sweetly, giggling as she brushed the chestnut brown hair out of his eyes and tickled his chin.

"Yes, Papa's going to make breakfast while I sleep in a little." Watching his eyes wander down from her face, she pushed the covers back and watched his gentle hands go to feel her growing belly. "Here," guiding a little palm to the right spot, she watched her eldest's brow knit to the tumbles and stretches of their future youngest. His fingers spreading out, smart brown eyes processing the fact that his mother was growing a sibling.

"That's a lot of kicking, Maman." Henri exclaimed rather seriously.

"It is." Belle exhaled tiredly, running her palm up and down the length of her stomach. Listening to the sounds of Bernard getting tickled on the other side of the bed, a weary smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as Ansell hauled the boy up to his face to kiss and nibble on him.

"Do you think it's a sister?" He asked, eyes still glued to the spot hidden by her nightgown.

Ansell sighed wistfully at the thought, wincing when he caught a whiff of his youngest's diaper. "Alright, you. Let's go clean you up and get you fed."

"Num, num, nummmm." Bernard agreed.

"I don't know." Belle was a well aware what of Henri wanted, as well as what Ansell wanted with their newest member of the family. Her husband had been hoping for a little girl ever since she had told him Henri was on the way. And while he treasured their sons and loved them with all this heart, she knew he quietly, achingly wanted a daughter.

"Bernard is so loud." her eldest told her with a hint of annoyance.

His father laughed lightly as the weight of his feet made the floorboards groan. "That's an understatement."

"PAPA, NUM NUM?" Their toddler asked, big wet brown eyes gazing up at him. With his older brother more quiet, thoughtful, and prone to painting with Grandpapa in his studio, Bernard's grand entrance had been a bit of an adjustment.

"If it's a girl she could be loud too." His mother reminded Henri. "But I need to try to sleep some more."

"Okay, Maman." He closed his eyes as she drew his head in and kissed his forehead. "I'll help Papa with breakfast."

He was such a good helper, her sweet little Henri. "As soon as I get some rest we'll find something to do while it's raining out." His mother reassured, watching as Ansell assisted Henri out of bed and nudged him towards the door.

With a squirming, prattling Bernard tucked under an arm, he bent down. "Anything specific for breakfast?" letting the boy loose, the baby went rushing off to harass his brother as he knelt. Taking the time to help his wife roll onto her other side, plucking his pillows from his side of the bed and using them to give her support.

"We still have those pastries from yesterday. One of those with some tea, please?" She looked appreciatively up at him. So doting was her husband, and with their third child on the way, an expert. Well aware of the aches and pains that came with pregnancy, as well knowing when it was best to give her space.

"Of course, Darling." Reaching down, he rubbed the spot where his son or daughter was steadily growing. No more had been their last talk. Three was plenty, especially when Bernard had the energy of two. "You know, maybe you should take your sabbatical early." He watched her face fall into a half-awake scowl. "It's just this one's been troublesome, Darling. You've been exhausted after classes, and you know father and I don't mind taking over more with the boys."

"Can we fight about it later?" She suggested, slipping a hand over his own, his gentle ministrations helping settle their feisty little one. "I still have three months."

"I'll hold you to it." Dipping down he kissed his wife, cupping her face while being well aware it was an argument he wouldn't win. "I love you."

"I love you too." she squeezed his hand. "Thank you for being such a good father."

"Thank you for making me one." He whispered, brushing his nose against her own.

"Bernard!" Henri's voice cried out from the nursery.

Ansell rolled his eyes and got up, much to his wife's amusement. Hurrying off to see what had been upended, and what Papa needed to do to set things straight.

-Fin-

* * *

A/N: Whaaaat. This is canon for Never A Happily Ever After? Yes, yes it is. Ansell and Belle and Henri and Bernard (bless him) and... well... You guys can't have everything. Patience. But, this was a warm up piece a few weeks ago and I thought it would be appropriate for today. I would also consider this taking place somewhere before the epilogue of NAHEA. I hope you enjoy it.

Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments are all appreciated. I don't know what exactly I can answer/give away with questions since this thing is riddled with little spoilers and threads to more spoilers, but you're more than welcome to ask.

And to all the Dads, guys who stepped in when there wasn't a dad, gals who stepped in when there wasn't a dad, to the cat dads, the dog dads, the assorted pet dads, to the dads who lost their kids and are still dads, and the dads who are waiting for their kids to arrive, Happy Father's Day.


	2. Grow It Back

"You have to grow it back."

Ansell gazed at his wife who was staring at him in a way that made him feel far from attractive. Absently reaching up towards his jaw, he brushed his fingers across a newly smooth cheek. Brows knitting, mouth dropping he fumbled for the next words. "I cut my face, you know."

Belle eyed the small but deep cut that had two stitches, regretting the fact that she had blurted out her response to the alteration in his appearance so quickly. As he stood in her cozy library, fire low and near embers with the late afternoon sun sinking lower towards the rolling hills and outcropping of trees outside the windows, she still winced. A large purple welt formed around the wound, radiating down his jaw southward and towards his mouth westward. His eggplant colored waistcoat was covered in dirt and ripped from his altercation.

Face pulling into a frown, he huffed. "Thank you for being so concerned. I'm doing just fine."

Leaning against her favorite reading armchair, it was hard not to continue to grimace at the sudden change. Still, she managed to compose herself towards his lack of beard. "I'm sorry, Dear. I'm glad you're alright." Walking over to him, she drew her husband into a kiss. It felt so strange without his thick whiskers. "Really, I am."

"But?" Looking down at her, his hands went to her waist.

"But I haven't seen your chin in over four years," Belle confessed guiltily.

He was suddenly self-conscious. "Do you… not like my chin?"

Kissing the clean-shaven chin, she rubbed a palm across his chest. Trying to find the right words to reassure him. "Of course not. It's just been a long time and it makes you look… well... _different_."

"I had to shave it. How else was I supposed to keep it clean and put on salve? And the physician had to shave the area around, so I if I kept it I would have looked completely lopsided." he tried to reason, however, her face made it difficult. "It would've been absolutely ridiculous. It's better off it all goes at once and I just start all over again.

Belle tenderly kissed his jaw near the wound. Reaching up she carefully tucked an unruly lock of golden hair back behind his ear, wanting her husband to feel handsome and desired. That certainly hadn't changed. "Beard or not, I love you."

As his thumbs petted her torso, Ansell's lip jutted upwards into a wounded pout. "Well, your expression is rather unconvincing." Becoming the recipient is a series of soothing kisses that went from his lips to his neck, he felt the small hands run up his sides. It was almost working. Almost. "I could have died, you know."

Belle pulled back at the declaration, rolling her eyes. "Oh, now you're just being overdramatic."

"I could have." He said pointedly, sorely.

"Ansell, I've _seen_ you die." She said just as firmly. "Do you not remember that? It was sort of a big thing."

"It wouldn't have been a grand death-"

"You got rammed by a goat-"

"But I really could have been seriously hurt-"

"You got rammed by a goat that you _provoked_."

"He was a big goat and I did not provoke him, thank you very much." He refuted, watching his wife scoff. "I and the lads were just taking a walk outside of the grounds and it left the herd and came over." Gesturing to the door, he continued his seemingly silly defense. "How was I supposed to know he was a particularly surly goat?"

Unwilling to buy into his over dramatic nature, Belle shook her head. Opening her mouth to respond, the pair both heard clumsy footsteps near the doorway and turned.

Twelve-month-old Henri toddled in, new to walking and unsure of his limits. Babbling softly, as if politely entering the conversation, his baby face was set with determination. Carefully steadying himself on the doorframe before venturing further on his fat little legs, the little boy held his arms out for balance. His effort brightening the room, swelling his parents hearts with joy and pride as their little one was progressing so well. Seeing his Maman and Papa, Henri's cheeks got even rounder with a wide smile studded with incoming teeth and a coo eliciting from his precious lips.

"Look at you, little man." Ansell turned, grinning at his love as he stepped towards the darling boy.

Prattling happily at his Papa's voice, Henri reached out to signal he needed to be lifted up and hugged. He loved to be hugged, snuggled, and kissed. It was his favorite.

However, he saw Ansell's face.

Confused and scared, the baby stopped dead in his tracks. The smile dying on his mouth as it slackened and he wobbled precariously on the rug.

Ansell furrowed his brows, unsure of what was amiss. "Henri-" realizing what was different, he got closer. "It's me, Silly Boy. Papa's the same, he just shaved his beard off."

Belle held her chin, lips twitching, silently watching in amusement.

As Ansell drew closer, the boy tried to shuffle backward to get away. Uncoordinated, Henri tripped and fell onto his diapered bottom, letting out a grunt. Gazing up at the unfamiliar man with growing dread, big brown eyes pooling with tears, and lip quivering he whined.

"Easy, Henri," Ansell scooped up his son and planted a kiss to the wavy brown hair that sat on the little head in big lazy swirls, feathering out over the child's ears. "It's alright," Tucking him against his chest, he smiled down at Henri; gazing lovingly into his eyes, tickling his chin, patting the well-fed belly. "Look, it's me."

Henri broke into a cry.

Pushing Ansell away, he sobbed. Head whipping around, finding Belle and reaching for her desperately, the baby squirmed for freedom from the big, scary man with the smooth face.

"Son-" He began worriedly as Belle swooped in and plucked her frightened child out of his arms.

"Shhh, it's alright baby." Kissing his tears, she drew his head closer and felt her little boy nuzzle under her chin as he settled into sniffles.

Henri jabbered, his tone concerned as he gripped Maman's shoulder. Eyes suspicious of the man who sounded like Papa but was certainly not Papa, he cuddled closer and found his thumb to suck while Maman patted his back. Glancing over at the stranger, he quickly buried his face into Belle's neck and hid. Trusting in Maman to protect him.

"I know." She kissed into the top of Henri's head, looking over to Ansell. "I want him to grow it back too."

Ansell's shoulders slumped.

"Is everything alright?" Maurice asked as he quickly walked towards the library. "He was walking just fine I thought-" freezing mid-step as his son-in-law turned to him, he recoiled slightly. "Oh, you have to grow it back."

He scowled at all three of them.

-Fin-


	3. Darlings

Ansel wandered into Belle's library.

A fraction of the size of the castle's, it was still her sanctuary. The bookshelves they had built themselves went to the ceiling, her collection still growing yet impressive, and the hearth warm and welcoming in the late night. He found her rocking chair by the fire conspicuously absent. The tea setting resting on the table next to it untouched, the light of the flame dancing across the gleaming porcelain.

"Ansell?"

Walking around the couch that's fabric was studded with flowers, he discovered her curled up on her side. Head on a pillow, quilt up to her shoulders, brown eyes weary and half open. "Not the rocker?"

"This feels better on my back." Reaching out, she took his wrist and gave it a pull. Lifting her head as he took a seat, she pushed the pillow away and scooted up. Setting her head in his lap, pushing the blanket down to below her waist. Her knees curled up as high as she could draw them, belly heavy with child.

"And how are my darlings?" he asked softly, reaching across and sliding his hand across the large curve under the robe she loosely wore. Their firstborn stretching and kicking, nearly ready to enter the world.

"Very big." She grunted uncomfortably, tiredly. Taking a hand and resting it on his own. Guiding it to where she could feel a head or a rump pressing against the side. Their son or daughter had settled low in the last few weeks, preparing for labor. "One of us is very ready for the other to arrive."

"Any day now." he soothed, rubbing the spot lovingly. Taking his other hand and carefully tucking the lock of hair that had fallen out of her braid behind an ear, he listened to a slightly frustrated sigh.

Catching the fondness in his eyes, Ansell wistful in adoration, Belle gazed up at him curiously. "What is it?"

"Oh, just that you're are the most beautiful creature in all of creation."

A little smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, well aware he wasn't saying it just to flatter. "Even this big?"

"Especially so." Smiling, he felt the newest edition to their family settle down to his petting. Having been told his baby enjoyed his hands it never ceased to amaze the father-to-be how much it felt true. "Carrying our little one. Who, I'll assume, is just as lovely as her or his mother." Musing, he added. "And by the look of it, just as stubborn seeing as they were supposed to arrive a few days ago."

"Gets it from you." Belle yawned.

"Can I do anything else?" He asked softly.

Mulling it over, she turned her head. Looking up into the warm blue eyes brimming with adoration, Belle asked hopefully. "Could you read?"

"Then I'd have to stop soothing this one." He noted.

"That's fine." Gently pushing Ansell's hand away, she took up massaging the spot where the baby had nestled. "And it's even better."

Furrowing his brows, her husband tilted his head ever so slightly to the side.

"I'm not the only one who likes it when you read out loud," Belle told him, watching his face slacken at the information.

"Really?" Ansell asked quietly, heart skipping a beat.

She chuckled tiredly, nodding her head. "Yes. You're very popular already."

A silence passed as he took in the information. Belle taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. Well aware he struggled with the uncertainty of whether or not he could be good enough for their little one. Ansell's eyes stinging at the thought that perhaps, just possibly, he was already doing something right.

Blinking several times to clear the overwhelming rush of emotions, he nodded his head. "Of course." Reaching over, he took a small book from the side table. Flipping through the pages to find one of their favourites, clearing his throat.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds-"

* * *

They had settled into a comfortable routine with Henri.

He was by all accounts from others with far more experience, an easy baby. Only fussing when he was wet or needed milk, sleeping through the night, and clearly enjoying being held. And with three adults in the house he was usually in someone's arms.

Belle woke up from a well-needed nap. Confused as it was dark, the moon shining through their windows, she fixed her sleep-mussed hair and wandered downstairs to the kitchen. There was a single candle left, a plate of food at the table, and the rest of the room tidied up from a dinner she had missed.

Ansell's dulcet tones were meandering through the hallway and coming from the den. Following the sound, she paused once in the doorway, taking in the scene. Maurice was reading by the fireplace, and Ansell was off to the side with Henri. Her husband had their freshly bathed son on his chest, holding the newborn in place with one large palm, the other keeping a copy of Robinson Crusoe open. His deep, soothing voice was reading aloud softly to the baby whose eyelids bobbed. Henri all of three-weeks-old and gripping his waistcoat, whimpering every once in awhile which was soothed with a soft back rub. Leaning against the doorway, Belle gave herself the time to quietly watch them.

He had found his stride as a father. The first week Ansell had been sweet yet unsure of how to assist. Feeling clumsy, excluded, and sadly out of place when the midwives came to check on his wife and child and shoo him away. However, Maurice had been a willing guide and he had blossomed into an attentive Papa. Eager to see his darlings after work, more than happy to tend to Henri even when he was a bit of a mess.

Smiling warmly, her heart wanting to burst with the sight of father and son she walked over, catching his attention.

"Did you get your dinner?" Ansell asked, carefully setting the book upside down on the table, patting Henri's rump as his son began to whine and huff as soon as Belle spoke. A signal he needed Maman.

"No not yet, but thank you for letting me sleep." Resting a hand on his shoulder, she leaned over and gently, tenderly kissed him. Well aware that few men of their time would tend to their newborn, much less read to the little one. "How's our boy?"

"A little fussy." He leaned into the fingers scratching his beard. Never wanting Henri to feel he was cold, cruel, or distant, Ansell boosted the tiny thing up higher on his chest, enjoying his son nuzzling into his neck as their wee one let out an unhappy grunt. "But he nurses around this time, so I think it's safe to say you're the expert to step in."

"That I am. Come here, mon petit." Rocking her body and shifting her baby, Henry began to squeak and root around her breast. Pushing against the silk of the robe that she had found since her delivery the most comfortable and easy thing to wear "I know, we're hungry." She soothed, ghosting the tips of her fingers across Henri's delicate forehead. "He loves it when you read to him, you know."

Her husband's lips twitched as he watched his son look for dinner. A blessedly healthy baby boy, already growing and getting stronger every day. "He just likes soft noise." He dismissed.

"Ansell," she looked down at her son, the large navy eyes gazing up at her as the tiny mouth frowned. "Henri _loves_ you reading to him. He always has."

Bowing his head, a smile played on Ansell's, feeling a pang of happiness towards Belle's declaration.

Beginning to step towards a chair in the living room, already unlacing the front of her gown, Belle paused and looked over her shoulder. Eyes clearly holding a plan as she patted the little back. "Would you come to the library with us? With your book, please."

Nodding his head, he followed. The fire was low in her room, so he added another log to ward off the early spring chill that clung to the corners of the house. Turning, he found Belle not in her rocker, but on the couch. His Henri's fussing ceasing as the sound of noisy suckling replaced it, tiny hands clumsily kneading for milk.

Belle patted the spot next to her.

Ansell padded over and sank against the cushions. "Look at this boy," Reaching over the top of the couch back, he pulled a blanket down and draped it over her lap. Cradling her face as he gave her the most tender and proud of kisses, smiling tiredly against her lovely mouth. "And you, together."

"Remember when you were scared of him?" She asked, nuzzling against him, brown eyes closing in contentment.

"How could I not be?" Tilting his chin down, he watched as she gently rubbed a thumb over Henri's pink cheek to help him along. "You two were so perfect when he arrived, and I stood there rather stupidly, the only ideas of raising a son absolutely terrible ones."

"But look at you now." Belle's voice radiated pride. "Such a good Papa."

Reaching down, he cupped a little foot covered in a knitted bootie. Henri letting out a little grunt as he focused on his milk. Kissing her again, Ansell felt Belle settle against his shoulder. Relishing the feeling of his family so close. "I hope so."

"You're nothing like him." She reassured, fighting not to yawn. Gingerly holding the little head that had a patch of brown fluff at the top closer to her breast. "And you're going to keep reading out loud to us."

Grinning, he took his book and opened it back to the right page. Stealing one last kiss. "Anything for my darlings."

Belle watched their son, feeling him relax to his father's reading.

-Fin-

* * *

 _A/N: Ansell begins to recite Sonnet 116 at the end of the first half._


	4. He Thinks Its Funny

"Well, they're the ones who started it."

Baby Henri yawned, fat fist drawing up to his mouth he sucked on the cranberry red yarn of his winter mitten sleepily.

Belle re-tucked the blanket around the drowsy boy that sat on her leg, her thick woolen cloak sheltering him to ward off the snowfall. "Did you have a good nap?" She asked softly, tugging down his little knit cap.

Henri pressed his cheek against her dress as he settled closer. All sleepy yawns and soft murmurs.

"That's a yes." She translated for Ansell, though any amusement towards her son waking up quickly dissipated. "And getting back to the original topic, just because they started it doesn't mean you should join in." Shaking her head she gazed at him with some reproachfulness.

"He said my accent was funny. And then he did an impression of it." her husband huffed in a cloud of warm air, flicking the reins to urge the horses forward. The thin crust of snow churned up over the skis of the sleigh as their house drew closer in the blue landscape. "That's the rudest thing I've ever heard. And I don't care if he's from up North."

"Still doesn't mean you should get angry and tell him _his_ accent's funny." She pointed out.

"Well, to me it is."

"Everyone's accent is the same here, _we're_ the foreigners." Belle reminded. "And please stop speaking French in front of people who don't know the language."

"But how am I supposed to call them terrible things to their face when they're being utterly awful and then watch you try not to laugh?" Listening to a babble of nouns, Ansell glanced down at his son. Round little face peeking out from under Belle's heavy cloak. "He looks warm."

"He was better behaved than you," Belle told him.

"He's always better behaved than me." Flashing a cheeky smirk, it got the desired effect.

Rolling her eyes to the truth Belle rubbed Henri's back, thickly wrapped in layers of warm clothing. "Funny accents aside. It was a really nice luncheon."

"It was. It was nice to see to everyone and talk about spending Noel with the family." He slowed the horses as they approached the barn. "Whoa, whooooa. Easy boys." Turning to her, had his slightly lopsided, somewhat dopey smile of excitement across his handsome features.

She furrowed her brows at him.

"Do you not recall last year?" Ansell hinted to his wife. "Because I vividly remember you being very pretty at the party while I held you in the parlor. And he kicked under our hands and we talked about the next Noel."

Belle's eyes lit up, lovely mouth pulling into a smile as the sleigh stopped with a gentle lurch. Carefully she set Henri in a wicker basket, covering it with a thick quilt. "The first one with all of us together."

"The first one with the three of us." He exhaled, happy at the idea. Pausing, letting the air breathe while he jumped to the ground, he mused over a new idea. "Do you ever think about how he'll sound?" Her husband asked as he helped her down. "I suppose his accent may be different, after all, he'll grow up with two languages."

"No, I hadn't." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she looked down at her boots for a moment. "Honestly I try not to think too much about him growing up. I'd like to enjoy the moments with him that are happening right now." Reaching over, she began to unbuckle the horses from the rig.

"Oh Darling, you can just take him inside-"

"It'll only take a minute with the two of us." She kept working on the buckles and straps. "Henri's plenty warm in his basket, and I thought we could go check on Papa afterward."

Ansell nodded his head to the side, mulling it over. "Suppose we should make sure his new stove hasn't set the whole place on fire."

Belle scoffed. "Excuse me?"

"What?" She looked as if he had deeply offended her "It's a valid concern! There's so much paper and solvent in that little room all you'd have to do is light a match and the whole thing would go up like a pile of straw."

" _I'm_ the one who installed it." Belle reminded him somberly, leading one of the horses to their paddock.

"Touché, Madame."

"If it burns down, it's not because of the stove." His wife announced defensively.

They finished putting away the horses and sleigh quickly. Belle dusting herself off and taking Henri's sling that was hanging crossways on her body. Peeling back his warm blanket she used the sling to secure him on her hip.

"There we go, Son." She said as she made sure his little boots were pulled up, Henri naturally molding against her and snuggling in. "I think you're more padding than baby at this point."

Herni heaved a dramatic sigh, more than content to be against Maman. He was a cuddly boy and often stilled as soon as he was strapped or pressed against someone.

"Well come on, slow pokes." Her husband teased, his big strides clearing more crunchy ground and leaving deep gouges in the snow pack. I'm going to beat-"

The snowball struck his shoulder, exploding out into powder, making his stop dead in his tracks.

Henri giggled.

Turning, he saw the grinning baby and his mother, who was clearly surprised hitting him would elicit such a reaction from the little one. Scowling, he raised a brow at her. _"Really?_ "

"You called us slow." She chuckled.

Rolling his eyes, he turned and walked closer towards the little art studio next to their house. The warm glow of candles radiating from the windows.

The second snowball hit the back of his neck.

As soon as he jumped and yelped Henri shrieked with delight. Little stubs peeking in through his gums that flashed in a smile, Maman having to support his back when he flung himself backward and was in danger of tumbling out of his sling.

"That's not funny!" Her love whirled around, Belle nearly doubled over practically in tears while both of them laughed hysterically.

"He thinks it is." She giggled out, covering her mouth to try and stop. However, Henri's deep, long belly laughs were infectious.

Ansell scooped a palmful of snow up, a wicked grin that craved revenge spreading over his face.

Belle, still giggling, pulled Henri up to her chest. "You wouldn't hit a child now would you?"

His face slacked, and his brows dropped in a low line above the blue eyes. The snow tumbled out through his fingers and pattering onto the ground. "You play dirty." Her husband grumbled.

"I'm just trying to keep my little one from catching a chill." The mischievous brown eyes taunted him as she kissed her laughing babe's forehead. "Aren't I, Henri?"

Henri, all smiles and silliness, caught his breath against her neck.

Hesitating, Ansell narrowed his gaze at her. "You better not again." He growled, slowly turning around and walking more quickly. More than ready to retreat to safety he reached to take the door handle.

It hit in the back of the head.

Henri sounded like he was about to die of laughter when Ansell let out a startled bark and nearly fell into the snowdrift that had piled up on the side of the building. Cap flying off his head and bouncing off the door it landed with a cloud of white dust kicking up and hitting him in the face. "BELLE!"

Belle grabbed at her aching sides, Henri wriggling and squealing in delight. "He loves it so much!" She gasped in amusement.

"IT'S NOT-"

Maurice opened the door, looking at Ansell, snow on his ear as he dusted off his cap.

"Oh. Hello, Father." He grumbled, quickly sliding inside.

He peered out at Belle and Henri, still laughing at his son-in-law's expense and unable to move. "Are you two coming in or not?" Turning, he watched Ansell stomp his boots and try to get the snow off of his neck. "I take it you took a pelting?"

"It seems they _both_ find my discomfort amusing." He grumbled, peeling off his gloves while Belle came in and his family caught their collective breath.

Maurice tried his best not to chuckle at Henri's fat cheeked grin.

"It's not my fault he finds it funny." Belle said, her laughing dying off into giggles.

"But you don't have to keep doing it!" He lamented, raising his hands up in frustration. Stalking over to her, Ansell was nearly ready to continue griping when he saw his son's joyous face. The big gray eyes gazing up at him happily, gummy little mouth beaming up at him, tummy jiggling as his wife removed his thick coat. Henri thrust a hand out and reached for him, and Ansell's heart crumbled into a million pieces. It always did. "Did you think hitting Papa with snow was funny?" He asked, moving in and pulling the wee cap off, running his fingers back through the fluffy brown hair to cup the back of the boy's head and kiss the little forehead. "You're so silly." He smiled, nuzzling gently to get a giggle as Henri patted at his beard.

"I would hope so, he's your baby." Watching the two while Ansell lifted Henri out of her arms and set him on the crook of his arm her boys found their rhythm with one another. Her Ansell being so attentive and precious with their son. It turned heads in the village, but she knew as a father he could care less.

"I like being reminded that." Pulling the tiny mittens off as Henri tittered and prattled on he pecked a little curled fist that bumped against his mouth. "I suppose I can forgive you, my son." Arching a brow he glanced over at his wife. "You on the other hand-"

"It's really toasty in here, Papa." Looking around art's studio and smiling warmly, her complete ignoring of her husband's grumbling was met with an even longer face she still would not react to. They had built the studio shortly after moving into the house. Made of stone, wood, and some reclaimed windows and other bits it was cozy but big enough for Maurice's easel, a large work bench for crafting and sculpting, and several large shelves and cases of supplies. The studio had a beautiful view of the countryside, facing just so for perfect natural light. And the inside was full of paintings, sketchings, and other artwork. Many of it doodles of her son at play and rest, making her grateful so many precious moments had been recorded as Henri grew.

"Yes," Maurice shuffled over to his little stove, opening the door and adding a log. "It's certainly helped with the winter, last year I could barely come in here and work."

"How are your joints?" She asked, blowing on her hands to warm them up from all of the snowballs.

"Not affected by the cold." Looking past her, he saw Ansell's gaze locked on Belle, trying to plot some kind of fairly harmless yet still satisfying vengeance. "I say your little modification was a huge success."

"I'm glad I could help." Wandering over to his easel, she inspected his latest painting. "I thought you had a commission?"

"Oh, that's just a warm up." Nodding pointedly at the door to Ansell, he quietly walked over. "I have the whole project planned out on that sketch pinned to the easel." Carefully he took Henri, patting his back to get his cooing grandson to settle.

Belle studied the sketch intently, envisioning the final piece.

The door groaned open.

Turning around her eyes widened when she saw Maurice with Henri holding the door open as Ansell rushed her. Letting out a shriek, she didn't have time to fight back from being scooped up. "Let me go!"

Ansell hauled her out of the studio, laughing, Henri letting out a peal of laughter behind him.

"Ansell, this isn't funny put me dow-" Seeing where he was taking her the brown eyes went wide. "NO!"

"Oh, I'll let go!" Flinging her out of his arms, he watched her land into the snow drift. Slapping his knee, turning to see Maurice holding back a guffaw with Henri squealing in amusement. "Look! He thinks it's funny!"

Belle scowled at him, hauling herself out of the hill of snow.


	5. Missed: Part One

Belle came home in the afternoon, letting out a deep, weary breath and untying her cloak. Reaching over, she took her apron off of the hook and tied it on, heading down the hall and to the kitchen towards the aromatic smells wafting through the house.

"Papa?" She asked, reaching around to refasten the ribbon holding back her hair.

"I'm in here, just heating up some soup for dinner."

Entering the kitchen, Belle went over and kissed him on the cheek. Her father bent over the stove, fussing with the contents of the pot, fingers still smudged with patches of charcoal from a long day in his studio. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon to you too. Good day?" He asked, watching her wander off to take out some bread and butter.

"It was. It went smoothly." cutting off a thick piece, knife crunching through the crust, she dipped the blade in butter. "I was so hungry during the last hour though, I wasn't sure if I could make it home without stopping by the pie shop first."

Maurice watched his daughter take a bite, chewing with the slightest of smiles to indicate she was satisfying her hankering. He smiled in amusement.

Belle looked at him curiously, drawing a brow up and wanting an answer.

"You know in the week he's been away you've gone from looking like you've eaten too much to looking like a young woman expecting a child." He offered. Watching his daughter's chewing slow, a hand ghosting down to cradle the small round mound that her dress could no longer hide.

She blushed, head tilting down so she could examine the spot. "I wasn't sure if it was just me."

"Well, it's not." He reassured, smiling at her and the prospect of his first grandchild. A little Belle or Ansell in his arms, toddling through the halls. The house was already a happy home, and a baby was only going to make it brighter. "You're showing. And when he gets home that poor man's going to be beside himself when he sees you."

Laughing lightly, Belle finished her hunk of bread. "That sounds about right."

"Do you need anything, Dear?"

"Just another slice." She said with a sigh. "How was your day?"

"Good. New painting for an Earl who's visiting the castle. Should be profitable." Maurice announced, adding some spices to the soup. "And supplies for the next music box. So productive overall."

"What's the Earl commissioning?" Leaning against the counter, she buttered her next piece.

"Oh, the usual proud nobleman painting. Astride a big Spanish horse, sabre raised, all that." Taking a tentative sip from the spoon, he nodded his head in accomplishment. "Mm. I know it's not dinner yet but seeing as you have an appetite, would you like a bowl?"

Belle hesitated.

Maurice gave her a prompting look.

Sighing in defeat, she took a small bowl from the shelf. "Just a little so I'll still have something at dinner."

"I believe you're allowed to eat whatever you want whenever you want." He reminded her, taking the bowl. Hearing the door open and close the pair both looked up towards the door that led to the small foyer.

"I'm home." Ansell's voice rang out happily, boots clomping down the hall as he neared. The door began to open as he kept talking. "I managed to sneak away a day early and I- _Belle_ -" he froze, parcel dangling from his hand and nearly dropping. Eyes widening at the sight of his wife; piece of buttered bread stuck out of her mouth, visibly expecting.

Setting her snack down, Belle went over to her slack-jawed husband.

Tossing the parcel on the table, Ansell quickly went to her as a wide, bright grin spread across his mouth so quickly that it hurt. "Look at you!" He gasped happily as he caught her in his arms and picked her up. Capturing her lips for a proud kiss.

"Did you miss me?" She laughed as he set her down, sliding her hands onto his hips and kissing him deeply.

Gathering her face in his hands he kissed back. Grinning against her mouth afterward, heart fluttering in his chest, he could barely breathe. "I missed you so much, and now I come home to find you looking so-"

"Pregnant?" She supplied.

"Beautiful." He exclaimed joyfully. "I was going to ask how you are but I think it's safe to say someone's getting big and strong."

"I don't know about strong, but certainly hungry." Winding her arms around his neck she kissed him tenderly, eyes closing contentedly at the thought of him home. Their little family whole again. "I've missed you so much."

"And it seems I've missed so much." He nuzzled, looking down at her stomach. "You had to tie your apron higher."

"Just a little bit." She pecked.

"I'm not taking another trip." Her husband reassured, carefully tucking a stray lock of hair behind an ear. "I've barely been gone a week and now you've got this belly."

"I had no say in any of it." The big blue eyes were brimming with love and joy, warming her inside and out. "It just happened."

"Well, I love it." Kissing her forehead, he looked up and across their kitchen to the father-in-law he had completely forgotten about in the moment.

"Did you have a good trip, Son?" Maurice watched the young couple, all smiles, as his daughter smoothed her husband's good silk waistcoat out across his chest. Ansell in his traveling clothes, ever the well dressed yet practically clothed bearded gentleman that he was. "Daring, prosperous tales I take it?"

"Hardly daring," Ansell reported, arm hooked about her waist. "But rather prosperous. It's all very boring though, and I feel like whatever's happened at home while I was away is far more interesting." Smiling down at Belle, feeling fit to burst, he reached over and squeezed her hand. "Can I do anything now that I'm home? I have the strongest urge to dote on you, Darling."

"Let me eat?"

* * *

Tossing a log on the fire Ansell padded over to Belle. The firelight flickering and dancing off of her shelves of books, warming the room and fending off the fall chill that was winding through their home.

"Madame." Presenting the brown paper package as he took a seat on the floor with her Ansell settled into the nest of pillows and blankets arranged on the rug just so for their comfort.

Belle leaned against him, carefully unwrapping her newest book.

"Action, adventure, magic, and romance." He rattled off, enjoying the feeling of the weight of her back against his chest. The weight of her; against him, on the other side of the bed, he had missed it all so much. "It was published the week I was in the city, so you _definitely_ don't have it."

Flipping through the pages, Belle smiled thoughtfully. Studying the book intently her fingers ran down the thick paper and underneath, feeling the hefty leather of the cover. "It's perfect." Turning, she kissed him, a pleased hum emanating from her lips. Looking at his mouth, that beautiful tempting spot she treasured, she pecked his lips again and took his hand, pressing it against her new belly. Watching the reaction on her husband's expressive face; how his tender smile melted into one of being stunned.

He was silent for a long stretch of time, mind churning with hopes, fears, joy, and hesitation. She could see the doubt edging in. All of his history with his own father coloring his ideas. Making him second guess his own competence as a parent. "This feels so much more real." He finally breathed as she turned into him and settled close.

"It's all yours." Kissing his chest, she smiled against his clean shirt. "Good job."

"Please, my contribution was the easy part." Reaching over he pulled one of the blankets up to her lap. "Though I do like being reminded it's mine." Sighing, Ansell closed his eyes as every last thought of parenthood rushed at him. The fleeting time before he was a father the last to creep in. " _Spring_."

"Spring." Petting the hand on her stomach, Belle listened to him grunt as he took a pillow and placed it behind his back, leaning against the couch. "I keep imagining you holding this little child wrapped in a blanket with the widest, proudest smile on your face."

"I'm looking forward to that day." He said, glancing down at the spot on her waist where her apron really was a little higher. "You're going to be such a wonderful mother."

"Ansell," Reaching up she cradled his jaw in her palm, directing his eyes to her own. "You're going to be the best father, I know it." His doubt broke her heart as it stared right back at her. "You're not like him-"

"I don't know anything, Belle." Voice crackling with fear, he took his hand off of her stomach and wrapped the arm around her shoulders. It was hard to even look at her, and he found the bookshelf a welcome distraction. The last thing he wanted to was to fail them both. "I hardly remember my mother, and all I've ever known regarding fatherhood is cruelness."

"You're acting like I know everything." Shaking her head with a small scoff, she stared into the fire. "You at least remember your maman."

"But you're so patient and kind with children-"

"And so are you." Belle pressed, fingers winding through the long hair damp from a bath to wash away the dust of the road. "You have the biggest, sweetest heart." Watching him hesitate again she soldiered on. "Ansell, you know why you'll never be like him?"

He gazed down into the big brown eyes that were so earnest in their belief in him.

"You love us." Kissing his chest near his heart, she said. "I know you love us, and he's never felt love for anything."

The blue eyes welled with tears. Us. The thought overwhelmed him. "I do, so very much."

"I have every bit of faith that you'll be a wonderful Papa to this baby." Feeling him relax, she did as well. "Loving and playful and so silly. You two'll probably drive me mad at some point, as bratty as you are."

Ansell chuckled. "I can't promise anything." Kissing her temple he whispered. "I like being called Papa."

"You'll be hearing it a lot come springtime." She reassured, sighing afterwards. It felt good to have him home, safe and sound. She could relax, and even more importantly, sleep. "I missed you so much. I know a week's not so bad and you always return successful, but it's hard when you're not around."

"I'm not leaving you again. Not until this little one's born and been with us a few months." He reassured into the top of her head. "We're going to go through this together, like we always do." reaching over he took a book from the stack next to them, finding where they had last left off, Belle drowsily snuggled against him and he relished the moment with her in the little library. "Do you want me to take the next chapter?"

"Yes, please."

-Fin-


	6. Missed: Part Two

"You'll be fine."

The blankets were thrust at Ansell while Maurice; the ever steady, calming voice throughout the last few days reassured him. It had been an agonizingly long stretch of time, then as soon as the baby had arrived, a whirlwind. Everyone had congratulated him. Shaking his hand, slapping his back, telling him he had done a good job making a boy when he really wanted to correct them because he had most certainly not done any of the work. Midwives telling him what to do, what not to do, chastising him on things they assumed he would do. People bringing food, people talking too much, people, people, people.

He wanted them all to go away.

Eventually, they did. However, with the house silent he gazed at the stairs in trepidation.

Maurice watched his son-in-law. It was the moments like the one before him that made him marvel at Ansell. Before him stood a prince, a beast; ferocious and lion hearted when it was needed. A man who used to be seven feet tall with fangs and claws reduced to nerves at the thought of going into his own bedroom and holding something tiny and harmless. "Ansell,"

He turned, blue eyes wide in the dim light.

Placing his hands on the young father's shoulders, he looked him in the eye. "You'll do fine. All you're doing is going up to sleep near them and help when Belle asks for assistance." The poor boy, his own father had done a number on him and since Belle had started laboring Ansell had been a wreck. Maurice had made a point to take to care of them both, making sure Ansell had eaten something, bathed, and put on fresh clothes before heading up. Someone had to look after the dear, frightened father. "Belle's doing fine, the midwives made sure she was cleaned and tidied up and I brought her dinner. She's just tired from labor, but she's a natural with Henri. All you have to do is what you've been talking about; help."

"Of course." He nodded dumbly. Of course, Belle was the natural out of the two of them.

"If you have _any_ problems or questions, either of you, you're going to wake me up. Alright?"

Ansell let out a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It had been ages since his anxiety had cropped up and it was a struggle to work through it.

"It's not my first go around," Maurice reassured. Reaching out, he patted Ansell's cheek affectionately. "You're more than ready. Now go on, your wife and little boy are up there."

Maurice headed off to bed and Ansell slowly made his way up the stairs. Quietly opening the door there was a single candelabra on the side table, an empty bowl and teacup resting next to it, and from the soft murmurs and sucking he could deduce his son was eating. His _new_ son. His first son. Mon Dieu, he had a son. They had a son. They had a child. What on Earth was he going to do to not be a terrible father?

Belle's head lifted off of the pillow.

He knelt at her side of the bed, gingerly pushing away the cradle which had been placed next to the bed weeks before. Weary yet happy brown eyes found him while his heart quivered at the sight. Belle was on her side, a hand and pillow under her newborn, allowing him to suckle as she lay down in exhaustion from a long, difficult labor. A little head peeking out from under the thick quilts that warded off the spring chill making him crumble. They had a son.

With her free hand, she reached out and took his face, pulling him in for a sleepy yet tender kiss. "I missed you." She whispered. Eyes dark, spent, and needing many hours of sleep. Everything feeling sore and overworked. So tired. So very, very tired.

"I missed you too." Kissing her knuckles he glanced down and caught a glimpse of a little hand kneading her.

"It was worth it." her eyes shut in contentment. "We have our little boy."

"How are my Darlings?" Kissing her palm, he reached over and pushed some rogue hair out of her face.

"One of us is hungry, one of us is very happy the other is hungry. And sleepy, and breathing, and here." She leaned into his touch, letting out a yawn as suddenly her eyelids were much heavier.

They were both healthy, the thought making him sigh. It was all he had hoped for and even at one point, prayed for, when she had been laboring. Their son was strong and as alert as a newborn could be. And Belle was well; unharmed by the possible dangers of bringing a child into the world.

"Why do you have so many quilts?" Stifling back another yawn, she adjusted her babe. "We don't need anymore."

"They're for me when I go get the armchair and sleep next to you two."

Belle gave the declaration a silent, humorless, brow raised response before letting out a scoff. "You're not sleeping in the chair."

"But the midwives-" He began.

"I've been in labor for almost three days and I've barely seen you." Taking his wrist, she gave it a tug. When he hesitated her mouth formed a shape that was part scowl, part sleepy pout. "Ansell."

Obliging hesitantly, he set the blankets aside and climbed in. Belle pulling and pushing on him until he was on his side behind her and she could lean her weight was against her husband. Smiling into her bare shoulder, he pressed his lips to it as she pulled on his arm and draped it over herself. "Hmm."

"Much better, right?" She gently stroked the top of the little head and relaxed as much as she could.

He found the little toes under the blanket and cupped them in this palm. Every bit of Henri astonishingly tiny as they curled and shifted in his hand. "I want this to last forever." He kissed again.

"That would be nice." Closing her eyes she let out a sigh.

"You look so beautiful together." Ansell nuzzled.

" _He's_ beautiful." Stifling back a yawn, she felt her son struggle to get closer and she helped him. Her husband's big hand coming up and petting an arm, his child letting out a tiny groan.

"I missed you, Belle." He breathed, his worry pouring out. "I missed you so much, and I was so worried. But you're both perfect."

"Mmn." The brown eyes bobbed while the little chest moved rhythmically. It felt so right for Henri to be against her, skin against skin, at her breast. "I love you two so much."

"Henri." He mused sleepily, Belle's scent mixed with the baby's helping his frayed nerves. Having them in his arms did him a world of good. "Our little Henri."

"You're going to be so good with him." She smiled drowsily at the thought. Feeling his face slacken against her shoulder, Belle's eyes fluttered open and she mulled the situation over. "When he's done, could you take him? They want me in bed for at least a day, and it works better if you walk with him."

Ansell glanced over her shoulder pensively, tensing at the idea of being in charge of someone so new and delicate.

Belle placed her hand over the one that had gone back to holding the button toes. "You'll be fine. You just need to pat his back."

He shifted, worriedly watching mother and son.

"Ansell." Looking over her shoulder as he nestled his chin on it, she reached around and found his jaw covered in whiskers. "You know how I know you'll be fine?" Leaning back, it allowed her to kiss him. Their struggles and adventures had shaped them both over the years, changing them, making them less and less like the common husband and wife. Making him rare. "Because no other father would even consider helping with his baby. But you're here, and you've been talking nonstop about how you want to help me ever since we found out I was expecting."

"I don't want to miss anything." He exclaimed, stomach dropping at his greatest fear. "I don't want him to feel like I've been absent, or I'm distant, or he never sees me."

"I don't see you letting that happen." She soothed. "You love him so much, it's so obvious you love him."

Sniffling, hoping Belle wouldn't see how red his eyes were, he smiled in agreement. "Both of you."

"You have the biggest, kindest, sweetest heart." Belle was near tears herself, flooded with emotions since Henri had entered into the world. "And I know you, you'll never go a day without making sure he feels it."

Nodding his head, he kissed her again. "God I missed you."

"I missed you too." Feeling him nuzzle, she smiled through happy tears. It was the first time she felt they were a family; the three of them cuddled in bed, Ansell holding her, his face against her shoulder, little Henri's belly full of milk as he relaxed in her arm and began to doze. She let the time stretch out, looking at the moonlight softly trickling through their window, listening to their breath. Her little family, together. "Ansell." She finally, reluctantly, broke the quiet they were enjoying.

"Yes, Darling?" He kissed.

"Your son's finished and he needs his Papa."

Ansell couldn't help but shed a tear at the thought of it. Henri needed him. She sat up for a moment, taking a blanket and wrapping the little thing up to keep him warm, handing their newborn off, capturing a kiss, whispering a thank you before he climbed out of bed and begun to pat the tiny back.

"You might want a towel." She murmured against her pillow, eyes heavy. "Unless you want to wash that shirt."

"Oh." Reaching over the new father found one on the table and placed it on his shoulder. "Sorry."

"It's alright, I already made that mistake." Belle yawned, smiling as her husband began to pace in front of the window. Eyes sinking under their lids, her protectiveness towards her baby waning as she knew Henri was safe and sound with his papa.

"Will you watch and make sure i-"

She was already asleep.

Henri let out a squeak and Ansell clumsily tugged the blanket around him more tightly. Carefully, slightly awkwardly holding the baby out, he studied him. Their newborn was all Belle; that little tuft of brown hair, the way his brow furrowed. He smiled warmly at the thought of a little bit of her in the world when suddenly Henri squirmed, startling him as he placed him back on his shoulder. "Sorry, sorry." Suddenly realizing he hadn't the foggiest clue what Belle had talked about, he quickly, quietly left the room. The little one nuzzling him as he retreated to the one person who could help.

Maurice groggily opened his door to a sleeping newborn and an anxious father.

Ansell began to open his mouth to sputter.

Letting out a sigh, he gestured the new father to give up the baby. "Alright, lesson one-"

-Fin-


End file.
